Meta
by K.E. Strokez
Summary: Lena digs up an old story she gave up on writing when she was in college. Stef will not rest until her girlfriend narrates it to her. Some fluff. Maybe slightly mature themes later, but nothing serious.
1. Prologue

**For those of you who might not know, I'm a (self) published author. And I write series of books. Which means I have ideas swimming in my skull-helmet all the time. But it's been so long since I've had my Lena fix, and I've been dared to write a story using one of my more obscure ideas. So I decided...what the heck. I'll have the Adams Fosters help me write my fiction.**

 **So this is basically a real author using someone else's written characters to write their own work.**

 **This story is not meant to resemble any other existing work of fiction. I apologize in advance if it does.**

 **Set after they moved into the house and before the twins showed up.**

 **Please review.**

 **Prologue**

Lena Adams cleared the plates off the dinner table as she waited for either the front doorbell or her phone to ring. Brandon and Mike were staying with Stef's father for the weekend, and the policewoman had made an arrest on her way home from work.

Which was the "perfect" way to start their weekend.

The Vice Principal had set the table, dimmed the lights, lit the candles...and then realized her mate would not be home for a few more hours.

* * *

 _Officer Stef Foster had been involved in booking no less than thirty people that evening. The bureaucracy of that statement alone was a daunting affair._

" _I didn't mean to worry you," the officer had sighed on the phone while someone screamed bloody murder in the background, "but half the station's out with the flu and it looks like I'll have to-"_

" _I'll wait up," the curly-haired woman had insisted, "do what you have to, and come home to me."_

* * *

Lena sat alone in the living-room after she had called Brandon, and pulled up the lid on her laptop. It had been ages since she had looked at her manuscript, and she decided to type out a blurb just to remind herself of the story she had written – and abandoned – as a freshman in college.

 _Aless – an Elven Angel – has one more task to complete before she earns her wings: ferry the soul of a recently-departed human to heaven. But on the one day that she arrives early for an assignment, she realizes that the human she was assigned to was...astoundingly beautiful._

 _Lucia was supposed to die, but she didn't. And when she woke up, a strange being with pointy ears and the most delicious-looking lips has flung her over her shoulder and seems to be running away from something._

 _Aless has broken two very important rules of the Angel world: the first is not to fall in love with a human. The second, more grave one, is that she should not ever stop a death from happening._

 _Both girls are on the run from the Seraphim, whose mission is to make sure Lucia's fate continues as planned, and to cast Aless down to Hell._

150-ish words was a brief yet acceptable length for a blurb, and as Lena read the story again she couldn't help but notice that her mental vision of Lucia had changed.

" _Stefanie Marie,"_ the gorgeous woman thought to herself, _"you've permeated my fictional realm, you naughty-"_

DINNNNNNNG-DOOOOOOONG.

Lena leapt from the couch and ran to the door. Stef looked like she'd ran a marathon on her knees, and like she'd collapse onto the nearest piece of furniture. She almost did, and had it not been for Lena's welcome-home kiss she'd have curled up on the welcome mat and blacked out for the rest of the weekend.

Their lips parted and the blonde grunted something. Lena had seen enough of "those after-work days" to know what it meant.

 _Couch, aspirin, water._

"My feet probably stink," Stef warned her girlfriend as she fiddled with the laces on her raised boots.

"But they kick ass," Lena smiled as she tugged the footwear off.

The socks were next, as Stef threw her jacket across the room and exhaled like she'd been holding her breath all day. The water and pill were ready, and she let the sofa cushions absorb her once more when she had consumed them.

And then she noticed something.

"You've been writing!"

Lena blushed and reached for the laptop, but the blonde's hand caught her before she could put it away.

"Stef!" She complained. "It's not ready yet!"

"Is that a blurb?"

"I haven't touched the main story in ages," the curly-haired one sighed, "I seriously don't think I'll ever finish it."

"Read it to me."

"No," the educator insisted, "recover from your headache and we can spend the weekend in bed. Doing more...important things."

The policewoman's core was thrilled at the thought...but she wasn't so easily swayed.

"We have the whole weekend to do that. Read me the story, and I'll be your ink-groupie forever. Just...make sure you impress me."

She slowly reached down to her waist...and buckled up her belt. Tight.

"That's not fair!" Lena complained.

"Isn't it?" The blonde reached for one of her discarded boots. "The longer you wait, the more clothes I'll put on."

The teacher batted the footwear away with one arm and picked the device up with the other. "You win. Just...make room on the couch for me."

They shuffled around – Stef's headache was retreating with the advance of the aspirin – and finally settled into a favored position.

Lena sat up, and Stef's head was placed on her torso. A small-ish sofa cushion was placed on the blonde's crown, where rested the laptop.

"Oh boy," Lena sighed as she found the first chapter of her story, "here goes."


	2. Chapter 1

**Lena's narrating this chapter. Let me know what you think of her writing.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Aless moved through the trees with the grace of...well, a wounded moth.

She didn't have wings yet, but that didn't mean she couldn't get around. New Eden was part-forest and part-ocean: Heaven had been dreamed up by people who lived in a parched wasteland, so that made sense.

Her pointy earlobes were hidden by her mane of dark-brown, curly hair, and her caramel skin was far from flawless. She had the grace of a wounded moth, after all. And those with wounds often had scars.

The Angel had heard it remarked among her contemporaries that she looked like she'd survived a thousand battles. But forests had trees, and trees had pointy branches, and pointy things tended to scratch the more clumsy residents of that place as they moved about.

"God almighty," she sighed when she saw just how big the Gathering that day was.

Her choice of phrase was ironic, of course. There was no God. Only lots, and lots of atoms, being moved around by lots, and lots of energy.

* * *

"Oh boy," Stef remarked.

"Is it that controversial?" Lena asked.

"Not to us. Other people out there might not take kindly to that statement, though."

"Why would they be reading a novel about an Elven Angel and her lesbian love interest then? It's _fiction_ , for crying out loud." The teacher's tone of voice bordered on irritation.

"Don't think you'll avoid reading the rest of the story by starting up an argument."

* * *

There had to be over a thousand Angels assembled in the Clearing. She'd never been summoned there before – Prentices hardly ever were – but she knew where it was. Everyone in New Eden knew where the Clearing-

"Right, that's everyone," a booming voice interrupted her thoughts as she lingered awkwardly where she had appeared, "be seated, Prentice. We don't have all second."

She didn't know where.

Winged Angels were all she could see: they were magnificent, and their plumage was dazzling. It was also nerve-wracking for one as clumsy as she was to walk through the aisles without stepping on anyone's feathers.

A Gathering could not begin its business until everyone summoned to it had arrived, and been seated.

* * *

"What would a wingless Elven Angel look like?" Lena interrupted to quip.

"Like an everyday elf?" Stef guessed. "And speaking of elves: are we talking Santa's kind or the Lord of the Rings variety?"

Lena burst out laughing. The thought of herself – Aless was modeled on her author, of course – as a bestockinged (is that a word?) pale dwarven Arctic worker was incredibly amusing.

Stef wouldn't have it.

"The Lord of the Rings kind, then. Now keep reading, woman!"

* * *

"The Prentices are on the LEFT," whoever was presiding groaned, and the Gathering all turned to watch her.

She walked further down the aisle, when - "The OTHER left, Prentice."

Just her luck that she should be Formed short-sighted. She moved back where she'd arrived from, and-

"Oh for crying out loud!" Someone snapped.

She bent to pull the feathers out from under her shoe, as the winged Angel they belonged to flared his nostrils at her.

She held them out to him.

"What am I supposed to do with those, huh?" He taunted. "Stick them back in?"

"I'm really sorr-"

"PRENTICE! DON'T MAKE ME REGRET HAVING SUMMONED YOU!"

She hurried to the other trainees as they cleared their throats in irritation and embarrassment, and took the last vacant seat.

"Now that we can FINALLY get down to business," the presiding Angel sighed, "The Council of the Winged would like it to be known to all gathered here that..."

* * *

 **..and that's it for now. The name of the story Lena's helping me write is Alessian: a fusion of Aless and Lucia. The trailing "n" is meant to make it look sapphic.**


End file.
